Kruger stole a prideful glance at S"jira. He had promised her the knowing of why leather was used in the configurations common for padding armor. He was quite certain that the excitement of the moment had come full circle. Kruger knew that it was better to experience the discomfort of the pieces he created in order to fully understand why a thicker piece is used here and not there. When he had mentioned pinch points to her, those exotic features first gave him an accusing look, and then something more akin to anticipation. Reality however was probably much different from what had been passing through the diminutive woman's mind. Kruger would have paid a mint to know exactly what that had been.

The pride he showed had been comprised of the fact that when presented with the mail coif, and told to wear it as she worked, she had complied without complaint. Kruger had told her that it would be uncomfortable, and that around the forge she could find similar pieces. She would be allowed to look upon the finished pieces and then craft something similar. The first thing she had to do though was discover where the discomfort would be felt. Already she had discovered the use of the padded hat; it could be seen through the links of the mail.

The way the hood pulled her hair back away from her face drew his attention. The lines of her face were graceful, and attractive. Those who entered this place could easily mistake the exotic beauty of S"jira as being the reason for the shops name, instead of the exotic weaponry that was crafted. Kruger had to force himself to look away. The books before him had been provided by Eregor, and pertained to the project commissioned by Mr. Sabatier.

Kruger wondered if she noticed how often his attention strayed in her direction. He almost felt bad that tomorrow he would be loading her down with more armor. His own masters had said that knowledge must be earned. Once he would have disagreed, but time and necessity had taught him differently. He wondered if she realized that the pieces he was giving her were the ones which he had been forced to wear so many years ago. It was pure chance that he had found them in the bottom of a trunk put away long ago for safe keeping. He had spent a lot of his time cleaning up the rusted links, and replacing those that were too far gone to save. How old had he been when he first put those on' He only allowed the fact that the coif S?jira was wearing was as old as she bother him for a moment.

He could feel the tension in the center of his brow at the thought. Every time he had raised this point to her, she had pushed aside his arguments. It never seemed to take much effort to redirect him. He wondered not for the first time if that made him selfish. A final glance at her made him decide that it didn't matter to him, because it didn't to her. If he was, then he would continue to be because she made him happy. He would endeavor to do the same for her.